


He understood.

by stainhermouthred



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3x15 what if, Angst, F/M, no happy ending, what if he was in fact taken., you know which one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainhermouthred/pseuds/stainhermouthred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Start with Bellamy Blake”.</p><p>No.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He understood.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is so dramatic, I can't believe it.  
> Also if you're new to my fanfics you should know that I like making people sad.

Clarke did her best to avoid playing “what ifs”. Tried even harder after what happened in Mount Weather trying to suppress guilt, not denying just enough to get herself to continue what she did best. Surviving. There was that small part of herself that knew that she would do it all over again, everything, if it meant saving her people.

When her mom said that her friends were her weakness she felt all blood drain from her face in fear and she was screaming in her head, it wasn’t supposed to happen. She could take torture, she really could. Looking into her mother’s eyes as she slid the sharp edge into her body and twisted. It was breaking her heart but it was safe. If she died, no one would get the phrase. That was some way. A safe way. But she honestly believed that her friends would find a way that they wouldn’t be involved, she couldn’t watch this, she couldn’t be responsible for more pain. She knew that for their deaths would be more realistic but she couldn’t think about it. There had to be a way.

Abby looked at her for a moment before saying. “Start with Bellamy Blake”.

_No._

_No. Please no._

She couldn’t think.

The only thing she could see was Bellamy, the image of him when she closed the door of the dropship on him leaving him to die in there. His face when she told him to go to Mount Weather and when they were saying their goodbye. His eyes looking at her with such intensity and understanding. She needed him.

She could hear his voice behind the door, mouthing off to the guards.

_Please no. Run, fight, get away, do something._

She was pleading in her mind, her mother was so sure she would break because her friends were tortured or killed. For a moment she wondered, would she?

And of all people, she chose Bellamy. Her partner, her best-friend, person she trusted the most in the world and the one she needed to be whole, to have her back, someone so loyal that he wouldn’t leave her side and what’s worse… someone who knew that there were things that needed to be done.

The guards entered throwing Bellamy to his knees in front of her and it made her sick. He looked at her the relief that she was alive flashing through his eyes for a second and she felt more tears stream down her face.

He looked at her tears for a moment then at the puncture wounds on her chest and he understood. Determination settled over his features and she hated him in that moment more than ever.

Whatever they had, the two of them. The understating, the devotion, the love they felt for each other than she didn’t really think about too much about because it was as natural as breathing, everything felt like it was suffocating her.

She knew him. And he knew her.

“Passphrase, Clarke”

She was looking him in the eyes pleading for something but she wasn’t sure what exactly while she was shaking her head. Someone stabbed him in the side. She didn’t stop the tears now, looking at his face now filled with pain, listening to his grunting and gasps for air and all she could do was to master: “please stop”.  I continued, her asking and him getting hurt as she watched.

“Passphrase” her mother asked again.

Clarke’s eyes found Bellamy’s and she could make out that determination in him, that stubbornness he had when he was ready to do anything for their people. She hated him because he didn’t deserve this and he took it. She hated him because she loved him and she knew he understood her better than anyone else. That he doesn’t hold anything against her when she sobs out “I am so sorry” and she swears she can make out a hint of a sad smile on his bloodied face.

Giving up means death for everyone. Not giving up means hope.

She hated that he understood. She wished he hated her for what was happening. He didn’t.

“Bellamy” she whispers.

“Clarke, tell us the passphrase or he dies” the guard had  blade pressed to his throat and Bellamy was looking at her with a quiet warning that she didn’t need. Don’t break.

“I am so sorry” it came out as a sob and as more tears appeared in her eyes and blurred her vision she could hear his gasp and the next thing she knew she was looking at the dead body of this loyal man she grew to love on the ground.

Her mother came to her and pulled her chin up so they were looking straight at each other. “Another person you love is dead. You being responsible, again”

Clarke wanred to scream, the pain was overbearing and she couldn’t do anything because she’s tied.

“Give me the passphrase, Clarke” her mother sayid again but Clarke didn’t listen. All she could hear was her heart beating in her chest and her blood rushing through her veins and all she could think about was that the last person who actually cared about her was gone and she couldn’t do it anymore.

Then something unexpected happened.

Her friends came, knocking people out and getting to Ontari and she could feel someone untying her and taking her to knocked out Ontari.

She did her job on autopilot. Everything worked. And she didn’t remember a damn thing.

That was a lie. She remembered a scream.

Long, heart-wrenching scream that belonged to Octavia when she saw her brother dead.

There was nothing to be done to fix it.

Her people were saved. And she cried.

 


End file.
